Snapshots
by nanoteknology
Summary: AU. In which Thomas and Harry grow up as brothers, and we see glimpses to what might have been...
1. Mama's Boy

Author's Note: I wrote this for my friend, Snarky-I like it., when she was having a particularly bad day. Since I know she loves kid!fics and Thomas and Harry doing brother-like things, I decided this would be perfect for her. The fic did it's job, but the AU has a somewhat complicated backstory. So, apologies if it's a little confusing, but I tried to explain it as best I could. So, if you're feeling completely lost, feel free to tell me so. Hope you enjoy!

AU: Set in Chicago, in 1977. Thomas and Harry both live under Malcolm Dresden's care after Thomas ran away from his biological father, Lord Raith. Seven years earlier, a year before Harry was born, Thomas chose to leave his father to live with his mother and her new husband, Malcolm. Despite the knowledge that he was a White Court vampire, he chose to grow up as a normal human, further infuriating his real father. Now that Thomas is not protected by the White Court, Lord Raith wishes to kill him for political purposes. Little Harry knows nothing of his half-brother's past or vampiric nature, thinking that they share the same father and mother. Thomas and Malcolm keep up the charade, but they know it is only a matter of time before their veil of normalcy is shattered…

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_July, 1977_

It was a dark and stormy night.

Thomas' ratty sneakers slapped against the pavement in time to his rapidly beating heart. His pale grey eyes scoured the dark alleyways on either side of him as he put on a burst of supernatural speed. He could only hope it would be enough. He glanced up at the starless, cloudy skies, willing them not to rain.

Rain was the last thing he needed right now. For all he knew, the old sneakers he wore would probably disintegrate as soon as they got wet, but now wasn't the time to think about buying new ones. As he blinked sweat out of his eyes, however, he thought a quick downpour might not be so bad. A shower was defiantly in order as soon as he got home. That is, _if _he got home.

Normally, Thomas would not be this exerted after a run, even running for his life in the muggy July heat. He had a feeling that there was another reason for his sweat and rapid heartbeat.

Fear.

You see, Thomas was running for two reasons. The first was that he was a full hour past his curfew. Malcolm Dresden ran a tight ship at the house, even during the late summer, something most teenagers would hate. But Thomas hated letting his foster father down, and he felt a little twinge of guilt for staying out so late.

But that guilt paled in comparison to the second reason for his sprint: Lord Raith had sent hit men out after him.

Thomas had first sensed them following him about five blocks ago, and he had first tried to subtly lead them in the wrong direction. No such luck. Although Thomas was pretty sure they were all vanilla mortals, these guys were professionals. If he hadn't been alerted to their presence before he heard the first gunshot, the bullet would have taken off his head rather than a chunk of the pavement.

This whole thing was completely unfair. He had ran away from the White Court mansion where he was treated like shit, only to move in with his mother where the White Court treated him like a criminal. He had already survived more attempted murders than any sixteen-year-old should, and now he didn't even have his mother to care for him anymore.

Most days he didn't blame his little half-brother for his mother's death. After all, Harry was a good kid, and he couldn't control the circumstances of his birth just as Thomas' couldn't control who his parents were. But on nights like this, Thomas selfishly wished Harry was gone so he could still have his mother's magic to protect him. He unconsciously touched the pentacle amulet that hung around his neck, and risked another glance to the heavens.

"C'mon, Mom, I'm in the home stretch. Don't leave me now."

Although he couldn't see very well through the night and his curtain of messy black hair, he knew he was close to home. As he rounded the last corner toward his house, he heard the crack of another gunshot and instinctively dove to one side. He felt something hit his shoulder, hard, and pain jolted through his entire arm. At fist he thought he had been shot, but he realized that the bullet had actually hit the wall next to him and dislodged a brick onto his shoulder. It still hurt like hell, but Thomas would rather take a brick over a bullet any day.

Thomas finally stumbled in though the door of his house after what seemed like an eternity of running, and shut the door behind him. After locking the heavy wooden door with the chain and deadbolt, he leaned against it heavily. He knew a wooden door wouldn't provide him too much protection against a lot of bullets, but it made him feel better.

Malcolm wasn't home yet, the first stroke of luck of the evening. He was probably still helping to clean up after his latest magician gig. Thomas smiled a bit at that -- Malcolm always volunteered to assist the cleaning crews after his shows, even though no one expected him to.

Harry sat on the living room couch, his legs swinging idly over the side. Thomas took one look at the clock and winced; it was far past his brother's bedtime. He felt guilty about that, as he probably should have had the foresight to hire a babysitter. He would have under normal circumstances, but Thomas had had other things on his mind that night.

Namely, a girl by the name of Jenny…well, he forgot her last name. She was the latest in the long line of Thomas' girlfriends, or rather, nourishment.

Like most other sex vampires, Thomas started young. When he first entered puberty about age fourteen, he knew he was changing in ways other kids weren't. It shouldn't have surprised him. He had known exactly what he was ever since he was little. Still, there was a difference between hearing the secondhand stories from his half-sister Lara and actually experiencing them for himself.

He had resisted the Hunger for a while, but it overwhelmed him one spring morning when he was fifteen. The first feeding was always fatal to the victim. Thomas had been so horrified by his actions after that that he resolved never to feed again. Well, that was easier said that done. The Hunger overpowered him, and made him a different person.

No. It made him a monster.

Luckily for Thomas' sanity, he was able to restrain himself for the other feedings, only taking what he needed from as many girls as possible. Still, he didn't want to become like the rest of the White Court, however inevitable that transformation was.

Thomas tried to make the best of it. It wasn't exactly an unpleasant experience for him or the girls he fed on, as long as he ignored the guilt that clung on to him afterward.

Jenny-whatever-her-last-name-was was a pretty brunette that he had met in the arcade a few days ago. She was playing Pong against the computer and losing miserably. Thomas had suggested that they go get a hamburger together, and she was happy to oblige. That about summed up their relationship. From Pong to hamburgers to sex, no unnecessary emotional attachments. As easy as falling off a horse. And for Thomas, it was just as painful.

In fact, Jenny was part of the reason he got into this mess in the first place. He was just on his way back from her house when he was shot at. Speaking of which…

Thomas made sure the windows in the living room were locked, and the pulled the curtains shut. He didn't see anyone waiting for him outside, but that didn't mean that there wasn't anyone there. Harry looked up at his brother with a puzzled stare.

"Where did'ja go, Thomas?"

"Um…," Thomas stalled, not sure how to answer. He had been out having sex? Being chased by his father's hired assassins? "I've been out," he finished lamely. Harry was not so easily mollified.

"Out doing what?" he demanded.

"Fighting the forces of darkness," Thomas sighed. His sarcasm was lost on his younger brother.

"Oh. Did'ja win?"

"What? Oh, uh, sure. Yeah, I won."

Harry contemplated this as his brother ushered him into the basement. It was probably the safest place to be, given the circumstances, and Thomas didn't want his little brother to be hurt on his behalf. Harry refused to walk, and Thomas' injured shoulder groaned in pain as he picked up the five-year-old to carry him downstairs. As Thomas picked him up, Harry noticed something and giggled.

"What's so funny?" Thomas asked irritably.

"Your fly's unzipped," Harry informed him. Thomas looked down and couldn't help but smile. His pants zipper wasn't just unzipped; it had been broken. Damn, that girl was strong. Best not to let Harry and Malcolm know about that.

"Thank you, Harry."

Thomas set his little brother down on the basement couch and threw a blanket over him.

"Are we sleeping here tonight?" Harry asked.

"Just for tonight."

"But I'm not sleepy!" The five-year-old protested, his lower lip wobbly.

"Too bad. The forces of darkness like to devour little kids who don't go to sleep before their bedtime." Thomas looked at the wall clock in mock alarm. "Oh, no! It's already eleven 'o clock! Hurry, if you go to sleep now, they might not get you!"

Harry giggled, but Thomas could tell he was a little concerned. The smaller boy was asleep in five minutes flat.

"I should have thought of that sooner," Thomas said to himself as he turned out the lights. He gave his brother a quick kiss on the forehead before making his own bed on the floor nearby. "Goodnight, Harry," he told the sleeping form of his brother. Then as he looked up at the ceiling, Thomas whispered, "Goodnight, Mom."

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Author's Note II: So, how'd I do? If you want me to keep going with this particular AU thing (I have another possible chapter in the works), drop me a review. Thanks for reading!


	2. Silver Lining

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Jim Butcher, I'm not making any money off of this…you know the drill.

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_December, 1977_

Hunt or be hunted. Kill or be killed. Reproduce. Die. Repeat.

This is the law of the jungle, a never-ending cycle that is wired into every animal's subconscious from birth. A necessary rhythm. A strict code. An immutable truth.

Thomas did not live in the jungle, at least not of the literal sort. He lived in Chicago, and he knew better than anyone else just how unavoidable death was. In fact, he had had several murder attempts on his own life. He knew that he would die sooner or later; he just hadn't been prepared for it to happen to someone else.

He gripped the railing on the hospital bed like it was the only thing keeping him upright, and willed himself not to cry. He was alone now, but he wanted to appear strong for Harry's sake, if no one else's. Things must have been hard on the kid as it was, seeing as he was now an orphan.

Malcolm wasn't supposed to die. Sure, Thomas knew his foster father was getting on in years and wasn't in his best health, but he couldn't leave them now when things were looking up for their little family. Christmas was in less than a week, and Thomas had planned on getting Malcolm something special. A black silk magician's top hat that was hellishly expensive, but worth it for the look on his foster father's face when he opened the package. He would never get to see that face now, only the stillness of death.

_Why him? _Thomas asked himself, enraged and in pain, _why him and not my real father? _Malcolm had been an infinitely better parent than Lord Raith could ever be. Not to mention he never tried to kill his own son. Malcolm Dresden was a good man who never deserved death. At least he had died relatively painlessly, of a brain aneurism in his sleep. He had gone to bed the night before complaining of a headache, and had never woken up.

Thomas should have known something was wrong as soon as Malcolm started having headaches, and rushed him to the hospital. But he hadn't given it a second though, and now there was nothing he could do about it.

Could have. Should have. Would have.

But didn't.

Thomas knew he would get nowhere thinking about what might have been, but he couldn't help it. He was still just a kid, only two months away from his seventeenth birthday. And now there was only one person left in the world who really cared for him.

He left Malcolm's bedside and trudged back to the waiting room where his little brother sat. Unlike the other six-year-olds, he didn't make use of the various toys they had for him to play with. He just sat, patiently, waiting for his big brother to return. Harry grinned widely as soon as he saw Thomas, and ran up to him yelling, "Guess what toys they've got here!"

"I don't know," Thomas answered, his voice seeming dried and rusty beneath his false smile, "what toys do they have here?"

"Rock 'em sock 'em robots! Wanna play?"

As he saw Harry's carefree, happy smile, Thomas realized he couldn't say no. The gravity of his father's death hadn't yet reached the little boy, and he was just happy that Thomas was there to play a game with him. Thomas wished he could be like that. Completely surrounded by his own reality in which nothing ever went wrong. Ignorance is bliss.

But he knew that even if it were possible to regain that childlike innocence, it would probably cost him his life. Inexperience was not a trait you wanted if you were going to survive on lonesome city streets. That was why it was his job now to protect his brother, by any means necessary. Even if that meant playing rock 'em sock 'em robots once in a while.

"Sure. I'll play."

Besides, maybe senseless plastic robot violence would take an edge off his grief. Thomas knew that his brother's smile alone would cheer him up some. Every dark cloud has a silver lining, and as he let Harry's red robot win for the third time in a row, Thomas thought he had found it.

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Author's Note: Well, I hope you weren't killed by all the angst. I tried to make this chapter more bittersweet, so as usual, tell me how I did. Next chapter with probably have to do with Harry learning about his wizard powers. Probably. Maybe. Something along those lines. Yeah…

Author's Note II: And by the way, thanks for the reviews! I'm somewhat of a review whore. They make me feel good inside. So, keep reviewing.


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